Lost History of the Dragonborn
by Masked Guide
Summary: What if the Last Dragonborn wasn't chosen by Akatosh? What if Martin Septim wasn't the end of the Dragonborn Bloodline? And what if the prophecy of Alduin returning was solely dependent on the last of the Dragonborn Emperors, not bloodline, dying? Early years of Diana, the last Dragonborn.


Before we begin; a bit of history...

The Oblivion Crisis. The worst catastrophe in Imperial history. At the beginning, one Emperor died. By the end, his only heir sacrificed himself to save all of Mundus. This would mark the end of the Septim dynasty, and thus, ended the rule of the Dragonborn Emperors, and the Dragonborn bloodline itself...

Or, did it?

Now we go back a little further, to the early life of Emperor Martin Septim. Martin was a member of the cult of the Deadric prince Sanguine, prince of Drunkenness and Debauchery. Before he turned to Talos and the other nine divines, it's said that a disastrous incident turn him away from Deadric worship.

This is the story of how one fateful night saved the Dragonborn Bloodline. This is the tale of how Martin, through his lineage, saved Mundus a second time.

Prologue

A Night To Remember

Quiet and reverent, an Imperial town on the outskirts of Cyrodil rested peacefully as the sky darkened to a lower shade of blue. Even the inn of this small farmer's village was quiet, as it's only patron, a young man with dark brown hair, sat quietly at the bar, while the bartender mindlessly scrubbed the counter, waiting for Martin to drink his last cup of mead.

The bartender became disheartened, though, as another drifter into town opened the door to the inn. The traveler sported a cloak with a hood, but he could see enough to discern that the traveler was a woman, and by her composure, a young one.

She hastily and immediately took a stool at the bar. "Something alcoholic." She orders him bluntly.

The bartender raises an eyebrow at her skeptically. "How old are you, missy?"

She places 10 Septims on the wooden bar, where they clunk loudly and brandish their heavy golden bodies. "Old enough." She retorts. All the bartender had was cheap, generic mead that didn't go for more than 4 Septims. But as long as she overpaid, he didn't care much who was drinking it. Martin witnessed the entire spectacle, and, taking the last sips of his own bottle, hailed the bartender for another, who sighed grievously.

"Having our first sip of mead, are we?"

Martin directs his question at the stranger. She refuses to acknowledge him for a few seconds until a word slips from her lips, "What?"

"Your obviously a little young for the stuff. How old are you? 15? 16?"

"19. Not that it's any of your business." Her chin turns up slightly as her drink is placed in front of her. She snatched it up quick as a whip and tiped it back, gulping down the contents as if it was rich nectar.

"Woah, slow down, there!" Martin tried to reach over and snatch up the bottle, but the woman leaned back far enough to be just out of his grasp, and continued drinking. This sudden movement pulls her hood off her head, revealing her face, but she didn't seem to mind much at the moment.

Her almost divine features were enough to stun Martin the whole time she gulped down her beverage. Golden hair, with two small braids from her bangs curled around to the back of her head to form a knot; it looked like a blonde crown adorned the top of her head, reaching to her shoulders.

Finally she finished off the bottle and gasped for air. Her facial features staggered him. As he looked at her, her pale blue eyes stared back at him and her flushed cheeks hinted at her inexperience with drinking.

"What?" She demanded in a hostle tone.

"It's just that... I wasn't expecting you to be so stunningly beautiful." Martin smiled and tried his luck. _Oh lord Sanguine, please don't let this be a joke, or some prank! _He prayed in earnest. _  
><em>

The woman seemed surprised by his comment, "Oh, well... Thank you." Her cheeks flushed and glowed a little more than before. But almost as soon as it happened, she turned away in an angry huff. "Now I see who you are. Your with that Deadric cult of Sanguine, aren't you?"

Martin shrugged passively. "I can see my reputation proceeds me." He said, scooting into the empty stool that divided them. "You know about me, then. May I have the privlage of making your aquantence?"

"No. You can't." She replied insesitively and strongly.

Rejected, Martin turned forward again and called for the bartender. "Another round of drinks over here for me and my friend. My treat."

_We'll see how well you can withhold as the night progresses. _His thoughts reeled in his mind as he smiled again at the woman, who frowned at the wall beside her.

* * *

><p>~An Hour later~<p>

"What?! That did not happen! You're lying!"

"I swear, it's true! An pile of coins, no lie!" Martin and the woman stumbled into the room Martin had rented for the night, obviously drunk and furiously giggly, their eyes wet with tears.

"And where did the thief go?"

"Nobody knows. We think Lord Sanguine..." He threw his hand in the air and symbolized an explosion, "Poof!" The two started to laugh hysterically again. The alcohol in their heads began to twist the world around, and the two fell to the floor in a dizzy state of confused bliss.

"That has to be the most hilarious story I've every heard!" The woman gasped for breath in between giggles. One of her braids loosed it's knot, fell free, and swung wildly to her cheek. She noticed, but it only made her laugh more, because in their drunken states, everything seemed more jovial.

After calming down slightly, Martin sighed and asked, "What bring a beautiful princess out here to this skeever-hole of a town, anyway?"

She tipped back the free bottle of mead they had both received from an angry bartender for free in return for retiring to a room. After taking a few more gulps, she lightly slammed the empty container on the wood floor. "Can I tell you a secret?" She inquires in a hush-hush tone, yet somehow still loud.

Martin leaned in closer so she can whisper to him, "I'm s'possed to get married tomorrow!"

The drunken prince put his palm to his mouth and gasped in surprise. "No." He disbelievingly said.

But she nodded her head, "Man's a fucking goblin brains, too! I have no say whatsoever! All my father wants is money money money, so I hafta marry that ugly... fat... fat... lazy... uuhhgg!" Finally, fed up with it all, she threw the mead bottle to the nearest wall, where it stuck in a kink in the cheap, rotting wood.

Martin gawked in wide-eyed astonishment at her. "That was amazing!"

She merely shrugs. "Just something that happens, really. I aim for something, and I hit it. All part of my family's-" She held up her arms like she was shooting an arrow from a bow, and let the imaginary projectile fly. "-pew! Archery training." For another demonstration, she picked up Martin's bottle without thinking and chucked it across the room.

"No wait, mine's not-" But it was too late. Mead sprayed across the room as the bottle flew and stuck in the wall yet again, pouring out a steady stream of the liquid once there.

A nervous smile crept across her face. "Oops..." She said innocently, fighting back snickers. Her entire face flooded with bright red as she held back embarrassed laughter.

Martin didn't even try to get angry; he sighed disappointedly instead, "Damn, that was my last bottle."

Again, trying with all her might not to laugh, yet snickering lightly, she quietly muttered, "I'm sorry. Really, I am."

"I'm gonna need something of equal or greater value, then."

"Alright, then," She sighed, her laughing fit finally over. "What do you want?"

I think it'd be obvious, _girl_!" He teased, putting emphasis on 'girl' while he batted at her loose braid playfully with his index finger. She attempted to smack it away while mumbling something about not being a girl. "Tell me your name."

She waited for a while as he continued to hit her hair back and forth like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Then, a devilish smile crossed her lips, and she turned to Martin, facing him. "I'm Maya."

Instantly, she had him full-body-tackled to the floor. Martin gaped at Maya as she straddled him, grabbed his cheeks in both palms and kissed him passionately on and in his mouth.

She paused for a moment so that the two could breathe, and Martin muttered, "Martin... I'm... Martin."

* * *

><p>"Oooooohhhgggg... My head." Martin cringed and closed his eyes tightly as the bright morning sunlight flooded his vision, causing him enormous amounts of pain to throb throughout his cranium. "I swear Sanguine gets a good laugh at mortals every time he's reminded of this foul flaw to alcohol." He grumbled while covering his eyes with an elbow.<p>

Much to his head's dismay, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and opened them with a high degree of caution and lethargy. The first thing he noticed: He was naked. Completely. This, he realized, must mean that he... well, you know... with some woman, and had entirely forgotten everything about the previous night. Or somebody was playing a really elaborate practical joke on him, but that was unlikely, since he woke up in an inn and not outdoors.

The second thing he realized: there was nobody in bed with him. This was strange, considering the first conclusion he came to.

He slowly peeked around the room through the cloud of hangover to find the room empty.

Actually, almost empty. Besides the normal bed, table, and chair, he saw a parchment of paper sitting beside him on the bed. The handwriting on the paper was so eloquent it was a wonder how any of the women he's usually with could write like that.

Martin picked up the note with the utmost care and read it through straining eyes. His name was emblazoned on the folded half of the paper in the nicest, curviest handwriting he's ever seen.

'**_Martin_**'

He unfolded the letter gingerly and began to read, ignoring the constant, irritating headache it gave him,

'_I just wanted you to know that last night was the most fun I've ever had. You are a kind and gracious man. Don't ever change that. _

_But please forget about me. Don't ever try to find me. If you do, you will put yourself and everyone you care about at risk. Last night was a mistake, and I'm sorry I was there on that particular night. I'm also sorry that I've brought you into this damn life of mine. _

_I am getting married in a few weeks. If you're lucky, you'll never hear from or see me again. If you do, I will pretend to not know you. I'm sorry. I love you._

_-Maya'_

Martin rubbed his temples, trying to soothe the pain from reading the letter. "It would be sweet..." He said, "If I could just remember who in Oblivion she is!"

~/~

And so, Maya eventually bore the child that would someday go on to have a child of his own. His grandchild was a very special mother. Though she would never come to know the fact, her daughter was, in fact, Dragonborn, like her. Although this Dragonborn would eventually save Nirn three times over.

But first, we must start at her humble beginnings, in the slums of the once great province of Cyrodil, now riddled with poverty from a taxing war just recently won.


End file.
